Chandelier
by Scarlett the Squiddy
Summary: Christine is unsure if she loves Raoul so when she discovers him cheating, she decides to take a break and travels with the Giry's to their house slightly south of Paris, to spend six months. What she doesn't know, is that a certain Phantom has taken solace in the same house. However, danger lurks in the form of an angry ex-fiance. How long before the chandelier shatters? (E/C)
1. Happiness Is Not Always As It Seems

**Okay first off, new start. I have planned this whole story out entirely, I won't be stuck for things to write like all the others, so I'm actually quite likely to delete those and truly give myself a fresh start! I know, how exciting. Anyway this is a Phantom of the Opera fic, Christine x Erik {because I can not stand Raoul as you will soon see} so please don't be discouraged by their relationship now. Raoul is a bad, bad man. This has not been edited by anyone other than me so if I have any major flaws please point them out to me, thank you!**

**I will try my hardest to update this every Saturday, but if it is late I am sorry!**

That night had seemed blurry in the mind of one such Christine Daaé. Looking back on it, on the morning after, had done nothing but given her a severe headache, although, it was only to be expected considering, in the words of Raoul, the traumatic and excruciating experiences she had been through. She sat herself up in her bed in the house of Antoinette and Meg Giry, the closest thing people she could call to family. She brushed off the sheets gently, and stepped out of bed. She dressed her self quickly in one of the dresses that Meg had lent her, after all her possessions had been destroyed in the fire at the Opera Populaire, and stepped lightly down the creaky stairs, before entering the parlor.

"Ah, Christine!" Antoinette greeted warmly. "How did you sleep?" She asked.

Christine paused for a moment, coming to the realization that she had indeed slept a lot better than she thought she would have.

"Very well, thank you." She replied kindly, sitting down.

"Would you like some tea?" Antoinette asked.

"No thank you Madame Giry." She replied, when suddenly, Meg burst into the room.

"Christine! Oh Christine you're safe! When Maman told me you were here, and safe, I could hardly believe it! When we didn't find you, I thought for sure..." She cut herself off there, knowing that Christine would not want to be reminded of the events of the previous night.

Christine got up off of her feet and hugged Meg, she was truly glad to see her again, and took a lot of comfort in the fact that her adoptive sister, who was her best friend too, was there for her.

"It's okay Christine, you're safe now." Meg told her gently, the two sitting down together.

Christine felt the need to argue with this statement, for she had always known that she would be safe in the arms of the phantom. After all, he was her angel, and had protected her for years and years, not to mention how much he loved her. Her heart ached guiltily at the though. She had truly not wanted to break the man in the way he did, but knew that what she had done would harm him for a long time to come. Despite what she had said down in the vaults, she did care for him deeply. He had been there when she was lost and alone, and needed someone, anyone. He had bared his soul to her through the crumbling walls of the chapel and she had bared her own back.

"Christine?" A puzzled call from Antoinette had pulled Christine out of her own thoughts, tying her back down to reality.

"Sorry Madame, I must have missed that." She replied nervously.

"I said, I am going to the market, would you like to accompany me?" She asked, smiling a little.

"Oh yes, of course." She replied, before adding. "Tell me, what did Raoul say to you last night after I had gone to bed?"

Antoinette paused for a moment, before replying. "He says he will come and see you this afternoon, and talk a few things over with you. I am guessing it is probably to do with you're wedding"

Christine simply nodded, with a warm smile, but found herself wondering why she was excited, but did not have anything near what the theater girls had described as 'butterflies' and she certainly wasn't as excited as they had all made out that it would be. Christine began to wonder if she had had the right expectations of love. She did not doubt her feelings for Raoul, she just felt a strong sense of anticlimax with the way she reacted. Oh well, it was probably only because she knew him so well that she wasn't nervous.

After a relaxing and pleasantly mundane trip to the market, Christine felt a lot more relaxed than she had, only realizing after she got back, what a huge weight upon her shoulders all of the stress from the last six weeks at the Opera Populaire. She felt a lot brighter and a lot happier and was excited for Raoul's trip. She had convinced herself that she was not nervous because of how long she and Raoul had known each other and had decided that she was definitely looking forward to their walk together. She was glad with the choice she had made, despite everything, and knew that the wedding would follow not long after. When she thought of this, however, a sense of- something, but she wasn't sure what- fell over her. Maybe it was nerves? It didn't really feel like it, it more felt like her insides churned around angrily at the thought, but maybe wedding nerves were different to stage nerves. Yes, that must be it. She smiled, and felt much happier about the whole ordeal, allowing her mind to sink into the false sense of security, that everything would, indeed, be fine.

Both Meg and Antoinette were a little concerned, they had seen the various emotions run over Christine's face, in the times where the girl had been lost in thought, and they had ranged everywhere from distressed, to excited, to disappointed, and neither could quite work out what she was spending so much time dwelling over. Both had their theories, but were unanimously certain that once Christine met Raoul again, everything would be, once again, content within the young girl.

"What time is Raoul coming?" Christine asked out of the blue, directly after coming out of yet another of her uncertain thoughts.

"About half past four, he said." Antoinette replied, with a smile. "I should think you will both be very pleased to see each other."

"Yes, I know I will be." She replied, with a contented smile.

The talk turned, and the subject of Raoul was forgotten briefly, for talk of shopping, and new dresses. At just before half past four, there was a knock on the door, and Madame Giry stood up to answer it.

"Madame Giry." Raoul greeted politely.

"Monsieur De Chagny." She replied, with a smile. "Christine has been looking forward to seeing you. Please, come in."

Christine and Meg stood up as Raoul entered the parlor, and the man instantly made his way over to his fiance, and hugged her tightly.

"Christine I'm so sorry for everything that happened to you." He whispered soothingly. "If that monster would have harmed you..."

Christine bit her tongue to stop her from telling Raoul the obvious; that he would never have hurt her. Instead she remained silent, and held him tightly, letting him think that he was comforting her. For that was what wives were supposed to do, please their husbands? Christine didn't like this thought much, but was adamant that Raoul would in truth, care for her as deeply as she would for him.

He soon sat her back down, and began to talk.

"As you can see, the weather is quite cold currently, and my poor fiance is obviously going to be very traumatized from her kidnap, so I propose that we get married early May." He began.

It was currently late February and while this seemed an unusually long time to wait, given the circumstances, Christine agreed, smiling a little. He then went on to talk about what chapel to hold it in, and who to put on the guest list, and Christine found herself tuning out at random intervals, realizing she was a little bored with the entire affair of planning it. She wasn't sure why but the very thought sent her stomach into uncomfortable coils.

"Is that okay? Christine, my dear?" He asked gently.

"Oh- uh, yes Raoul, that is all perfect." She replied, smiling as if she were excited by the ideas he had had.

Raoul turned to Madame Giry, with an expectant smile on his face.

"Would you mind if we took a walk in the garden, you can of course accompany us if you wish?" He asked her.

"Of course sir." She replied politely, standing up.

Raoul took Christine's hand and lead her outside constantly giving her small, encouraging smiles, as if setting a foot outside would be horrifically traumatic for her. It was sweet, true, but Christine did find it a little patronizing. Nevertheless, she kept her mouth shut as the two of them, followed by Antoinette.

The two spent almost an hour, exploring the gardens, talking of their childhood, and managing to forget about the dangers that had passed over them recently. They laughed, joked and found comfort in each other once again. However, it began to get dark, and so the two retreated back to the house, before Raoul announced he would have to leave.

"Unfortunately, I do have to work tomorrow, but in the evening, and every one after that, I promise I will visit you." He told Christine lovingly, and leaned in to kiss her lightly, but she pulled back gently, unsure. "Oh of course, you're probably not quite yourself yet, after that experience. You'll learn in time."

Christine almost let out a sigh, she wasn't sure she wanted to learn. Being with Raoul felt like being with a best friend, or a brother. Maybe she was just a bit confused, maybe this was love, and the girls at the theater had added sparkle to it, to make it seem desirable. Maybe this was, indeed, all that love was. She was disappointed, yes, but at the same time, glad that she actually had love, when others didn't. Her mind went back to the Phantom, as she thought of the heartbroken look on his face as she had returned his ring. Had this been how he had felt about her? It didn't seem likely in truth, because of all the things he had attempted to try to win Christine over, even resorting to kidnap in the end. Would she even think about such things to stay with Raoul? Maybe she would in a few months time, maybe you had to love someone for a very long time before you could think things like that. Christine brightened up at this, and thought for sure that that was the truth. She smiled, and waved Raoul off, in a good mood, trying to feel excited for her upcoming wedding. She watched Raoul step out of the door and waved him goodbye, smiling.

"Until tomorrow, Christine, my love." Raoul beamed, his face lit up as if he could think of nothing more pleasing to him, than his young fiance.

"Until tomorrow!" She answered, certain that she looked just as happy as he did, but inside her doubts were beginning to creep in again.

She tried to push these doubts back. 'I should be happy, I am going to marry the man I love.' She told herself, forcing herself to brighten up again, and forget her doubts. She was, once again, sure they were wedding nerves.

However there would always be a little part of her mind that did not believe this.

**Please follow, favourite or review, I will private message a reply to every single one! I am always grateful for support! Thank you and I really hope you enjoy this story!**


	2. Escape

**Another chapter! Okay so for the first parts of this story, the chapters will alternate between the experiences of Christine and the experiences of Erik, so this chapter therefore is Erik's first chapter! I hope you enjoy it. This is a special treat that I updated so quickly, be grateful haha, and expect another one on Saturday!**

**Also I realised I forgot the disclaimer. Oops! I will edit that in but let's clarify, I don't own Phantom of the Opera**

Erik heard the mob approach. He knew it was now, or never. He was sorely tempted to sit, and wait for them to find him, let them kill him. His soul was already dead after all, after Christine had left his life, for good. He had nothing else to live for. She was the one thing, that one beacon of hope in his miserable and lonely existence, and he had lost her. He had let himself become such a jealous mess that he had resorted to kidnapping her. No doubt that knight in shining armor of hers would have followed him, he had known it all along, and yet he had let it happen. He had known that he would have threatened his life if he had come down, and yet that turned Christine even more against him. He had not wanted to become the angel in hell, but he had done so, and therefore lost her friendship. Her love was something that he could not have ever earned. A twisted man with a twisted face to match. He did not deserve her love.

Then why could he not stop imagining what might have happened if he had played it out differently? He had revealed himself to her only because of the boy, the suitor, that he did not want in her life. What could have happened if he had revealed himself earlier? They could have been long married before the Vicomte even became the patron of the Opera Populaire. Maybe in another life, another world, he could have had his Christine. Maybe in another life she could have loved him. If only he had played his cards differently! He sighed at the thought, knowing in his heart, that even if he had, she could not have loved him. It was not in the nature of a human to overlook something like he had. Yes it saddened him, but he had lived with it all his life. Rejection was just a common occurrence.

He wanted to sit, and wallow, and wait to be taken, but something in him spurred him along and he found himself smashing the mirrors, to reveal his secret exit. He slipped into the one that he had planned to originally leave through with Christine, making his heart ache slightly. He shook off the feeling and began to walk down the pathway, making sure his foot steps did not echo too loudly, to eliminate the possibility of him being found. He heard the mob getting closer, and, paranoid, stepped up the speed of his footprints slightly, trying to assure that he could escape. He would not allow them to take his life so easily.

He soon arrived at the end of the tunnel, the only disturbances in the silent tunnel being the occasional drip of water and footsteps above him. Each time he heard a noise, he would stop, assess what is was, before making his mind up whether to continue slower or faster. He had tied his trusty horse up at the end of the tunnel, to wait for his arrival. His heart once again ached at the thought of his lost love. He almost turned back, to face his fate, but something stopped him from doing so. He instead climbed aboard his horse, and exited the theatre, riding at full speed into the dark night, though the skies were still lit ablaze by the burning Opera Populaire.

He felt remorse for the theater, there was no doubt about it. That was certainly his fault and all the time that he had poured into creating the perfect system of tunnels, allowing him to creep around the theater, silent and unnoticed, giving him the illusion of being a ghost, all the effort he had made to improve the performances put on there, and worst of all, all the memories, the happy ones, of him coaching Christine to sing, when there was no complication of suitors, or love, or anything of the sort. It seemed they were going up in flames with the burning theater. He turned his head gently toward the theater, taking one final look at the place that he had grown up in, and had been his only true home. He sighed once, before turning back around, and riding off into the dark night and into the unknown.

Erik knew that he had to get out of Paris, there was absolutely no way he could be safe there, and so he rode towards the south, though he had no idea why, and was soon safely out. He began to scour the countryside for small villages that might have an old abandoned barn or stable that he could take refuge in. He figured that was the best idea, as both would be considerably warmer than outside. He was extremely glad for the cover of darkness that he had been granted with; it gave him a chance to move undetected and unseen. It meant he was safer, though he wasn't entirely sure why he cared. No one would care surely, whether he lived or died. Though thinking that, he felt a smirk grace his face. A lot of the people at the theater clearly wanted him dead, it would probably cause anguish and uncertainty in their lives for a while. He sighed at this, realizing how stupid he would sound if he voiced these thoughts.

'Look at you Erik, acting like a petty child, relishing in anguish... What happened...' He thought to himself, knowing that his love had driven him insane.

He wished he could apologize to Christine somehow, show her that he was sorry for everything he had done, but he knew that he could never have this chance. She was long gone, and clearly happy with her Vicomte.

He soon arrived at a small village, he recognized it, and figured that if he were able to find himself a barn, he would be able to then figure out what he was able to do next. He rode silently along the cobbled streets, trying to make sure that Cesar's hooves made as little sound as possible, he glanced around, for any sign of an ambush, or an angry mob, but none came, and he paced through the streets in an eerie silence, with only the clicking of Cesar's hooves in his ears. Soon, he was lucky enough to come across a shabby looking barn. It seemed as if it had been unused for about a year, and so to Erik, it seemed like the perfect place for him to hide out, even if only for a night. He opened up the creaky door, and peered in. The hay seemed dry, and neglected, but looked warm, and that was all he was really looking for. He edged in, taking Cesar with him cautiously, in case someone was around, before creaking the door shut. The barn was dark, and it smelt rather odd, but it would do for a nights rest, and to sort himself out in the morning.

Erik yawned and it suddenly hit him just how tired he really was. He laughed to himself a little, before taking the bag off of Cesar that he had packed. He had known the escape with Christine would have been quick, and he would not have had time to pack things up, so he had prepared one. It contained all the things he needed to cover his face up, for habit purposes now, though he had left one of his masks at the lair, his cloak, some blankets, and a whole array of other things, including money. He had been in his right mind enough at least to remember to take money. Looking back, he was unsure quite how he had thought he was going to look after Christine well enough. She deserved luxury, and to be spoiled, not barns, hay and a disgusting face before her eyes. He sighed, and curled up beneath one of the blankets. He wished desperately that his Christine could have been by his side, but by choice, not how he had intended. He sighed, and fell asleep on that final thought.

The light streamed in through the cracks in the barn, and hit Erik directly in the face. He stirred gently, blinking slowly, still tired, but knowing that sleeping any longer would have been considered unproductive. He coughed to himself, before retrieving the bag. He searched through it, and found a black wig, and a mask which, out of habit, he put on, exactly as he had been doing for the large majority of his life. He adjusted it slightly, to make it more comfortable, before looking around. By his estimations, and the short winter days, he guessed it was probably around ten in the morning. He knew that there was no way that he could even think of moving until nightfall.

'One of the many perks of being a monster...' He thought glumly to himself.

He walked up to his horse and patted him lightly, taking a lot of comfort in the presence of the familiar animal. He rubbed the horses nose gently, earning an affectionate nose rub from the horse.

"It's just you and me now boy..." He muttered sadly to the horse, but that got him thinking.

It had not always been that way. Antoinette had been there for him and she had helped him through the times when he no longer thought that life was worth living. Last night he had told himself that the reason he was somehow still willing to live, and willing to fight for it, was to relish in the bitter anguish of the members of the Opera Populaire, but in truth, another reason was also because of Antoinette. He owed her so much, if it weren't for her, he would have been a boy and a murderer, on the run, and would never have had a chance to settle. Thanks to Antoinette, he had his home, a place to live and stay that he liked to be in, and it gave him a chance to exercise his ebdless creative possibilities. He could never repay her for those things.

It was in this moment that Erik decided that even if it killed him, he had to see Antoinette one more time. She was like the mother or sister he never had, and she had always protected him from the worst, as far as she could. He owed it to her to visit her one final time, to allow her to see him, before he slunk back off, into the pits of despair. Maybe he'd just wander out into the wild and let himself die. Either way, he didn't have to make a choice first. All he knew was that he needed to find Antoinette. Even if just to tell her that he was alive and that he was sorry for everything. Maybe she could tell Christine how sorry he was? No, better to let her keep believing he was dead, and carry on with her life. He would probably only complicate things in her life, make her scared again, not to mention the irritating Vicomte would probably start hunting him. But Antoinette, it wouldn't ruin her fantasies to find him alive. She might even be glad to see him again, even if it were the final time. So straight away, he began to plan how he would find and contact Antoinette, without Christine finding out.

**So that was chapter two! I know it seems to be moving quite slowly but I promise, it will get better. :D I hope you enjoy it, please review, favourite or follow and I will pm everyone who does so and if you dont have an account you will get a mention on the story saying thank you because stories do not work without readers! **

**Look out for the update on Saturday!**


	3. Dresses

**New chapter yay! Hope you enjoy! **

**Also, I would like to give a special mention to bhalesfb who favourited my story. I could not pm you for some reason so I am saying thank you very much here instead! I hope you enjoy the story.**

**Anyway this chapter focusses on Christine. :D**

Several days had passed since Raoul had first come, almost a week, Christine thought, though she was unsure as to quite how many days. She had lost track of the time somehow, and all the days had merged into one long string of life. She didn't know why, but her days had felt like a drag since the night of Don Juan. It seemed she had lost all enthusiasm for life. She figured, though, that it would pass with time. She would have confided in Raoul but for some reason she didn't want to. She was sure that if she did, he would brush it aside, and pretend that it was just nothing. Christine knew that it wasn't just nothing but she felt that Raoul would just not be able to, or want to. She was beginning to get the impression from him that he did not care as much about her opinions and the things she wanted as she had originally thought. She had been sure on the afternoon that he had visited her, that he would care a lot about the things she needed and wanted out of their relationship, but over his visits, Christine began to gather the impression that, like all men, he wasn't going to care as much as she had hoped. She knew that she should not be too surprised, all men were like that, so why should Raoul be any different? She cursed her stupidity for believing that just because they were childhood sweethearts, he would care more about her wishes than other men. She should have known that he was no different. Thinking this made her heart sink. She had thought that he would be different, or special, but now she knew that she was wrong. She remembered the last time that she had seen him, the previous evening.

He had come straight to the Giry's after he had finished work, and had, as he had the last couple of evenings, he began to talk about nothing except the wedding. They had not gone for any moonlight walks, or romantic dinners. Raoul seemed desperate to plan the whole thing as early as possible, even though the wedding its self was not planned to be held until May. It was tedious, and tiring to Christine. She did not understand the necessity of writing out the entire guest list of snooty aristocrats with way too much time on their hands months in advance, or planning out a wedding cake that would not be made until a few days before the wedding its self.

She remembered that she had sat down opposite him in the Giry's parlour, dreading the topic of their discussion that day. She had started to feel like the whole elaborate style of the wedding was completely unnecessary and therefore, a sense of irritation started to bubble up in her. If Raoul was so worried about her health and her mental state then why was he forcing her into all this repetitive planning. Why couldn't he give her a few weeks, or even days, to recover from the shock. She was certain that was what was causing the boredom and lack of enthusiasm she felt while planning. The whole thing was tedious to her, however the topic of conversation of that day, would always be the worst for her.

"You need a wedding dress." Raoul had said decidedly, cracking his knuckles confidently, and glancing at her. "After all, you can not get married without a wedding dress."

Christine remembered sighing under her breath, trying to keep herself from retorting back something that she would later regret. She had known that it wouldn't be too long before he mentioned a dress but she didn't realise it would be so soon.

"I have arranged for someone to show you around the wedding shops and help you pick out a dress which is..." He paused, to puzzle over his word choices. "Appropriate for the family you will be marrying into."

Christine had understood perfectly what Raoul was thinking, and why he did this, and it irritated her. He thought that she was so incompetent and lacking in knowledge of his family, that he had to send someone with them to help pick out an appropriate dress.

"Since we are of the aristocracy, we have a very... Specific style that we need you to wear." He began, trying to explain why he was doing what he was, but only proving to annoy Christine further. "We need to show you off as a good addition to the family, as a few members of the family have already been quite... Sceptical about you and your past."

It took every ounce of Christine's patience and resolve to not snap back at him. Instead she sat there, nodded and played along like a good wife should.

Looking back on this, Christine still felt annoyance at the way she had been treated, but figured there was little, or nothing that could be done. This was just how it would have to be. She didn't like it but she had to live with it.

She was brought back to reality when Meg entered the parlour and began to speak.

"Christine are you ready?" She squealed.

"Oh... Yes..." Christine replied glumly, standing up with a small sigh.

"Are you okay Christine? You sound a bit down." Meg asked, frowning a little, clearly concerned.

"Yes... I'm fine, I'm just a bit tired..." Christine lied smoothly.

"Oh, okay!" Meg replied excitedly.

Madame Giry arrived downstairs soon after, and the three of them left in a carriage.

"You must be so excited! I mean, I can't imagine anything more exciting than shopping to find your perfect wedding dress!" Meg whittered excitedly, causing Antoinette to hush her daughter slightly.

Antoinette had realised that there truly was something not quite right with Christine. She had noticed the slight edge of irritation the girl had had every time that Raoul had tried to discuss their wedding. She had noticed that Christine seemed reluctant to contribute and that if she wasn't partially ignoring what was being said, then instead, she was just nodding along with whatever Raoul says, while she could see that the girl was becoming increasingly distressed and annoyed with the things being said. Madame Giry did agree that Raoul was going into far too much detail far too early, considering the date of their wedding, but realised that it was not her place to say, even if Christine could not pluck up the courage to make a stand herself. Antoinette wished that there was something she could do...

They met the chaperone that Raoul had sent, and she greeting them snobishly and coldly, shaking their hands briefly. She took them to a large dress shop, filled with poofy white dresses.

"Mademoiselle Daaé. Your fiancée has advised me of the situation and I have selected this shop." She explained briefly.

Christine and Meg began to look around the shop. Christine was unsure if she had ever seen Meg as excited as she was this day. She was in complete awe, pulling Christine around, showing her at least half of the dresses in the shop. She seemed to love all of them, and Christine was sure that if it were Meg's wedding, her only problem would be choosing which one she loved the most. Unfortunately Christine did not share this opinion. She found the whole search rather dull, and found none of the dresses at all inviting. They were huge and puffy, with poofed up skirts and sleeves, and ruffles that stuck out. They were all covered in itchy lace and ribbons, and looked far too snobby and gaudy for Christine. Chrstine's idea of a wedding dress was something less poofy, less gaudy although something with a slightly fancy touch to it. For some reason, she found herself picturing the wedding gown that the Phantom had created for her. It was as if he, and only he, knew exactly what would appeal to her tastes. She felt a pang in her heart when she remembered that they had been very close for ten years. He probably knew more about her than anyone else, even Raoul. She sighed at this, knowing that she should not be thinking such things, considering the fact that it was Raoul whom she was marrying.

Christine tried to find a dress that appealed more to her tastes than any of the others, but every time she find one, the chaperone, who was following her around, would tell her that it wasn't appropriate.

"That would be highly inappropriate for a Vicomtesse, Mademoiselle Daaé." The chaperone replied dully, again, causing Christine to pull a face, and sigh, rubbing her forehead.

Meg placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling quite sorry for her friend.

"Christine, why don't I help you pick one? We could find a nice one." She suggested kindly, with a smile, for what must be the fourth or fifth time.

Christine finally gave up and accepted. She allowed Meg to show her which ones she liked best, and ended up picking one at random, that Meg squealed at, clearly it was one of her favourites.

That evening, after sitting in the carriage, hearing Meg talk about what type of dresses she wanted to wear as bridesmaids, and how happy she was for Christine, Antoinette really began to worry about Christine. She had seen how reluctant Christine was about the dress that she had bought, and knew that this would contribute to the overall stress and upset of Christine. She just hoped that that evening, Raoul would be understanding, and at first, it seemed like he would.

Raoul arrived at his usual time, greeting his fiancée warmly, and greeting Meg and Antoinette. He sat down, and for once, did not start talking about wedding plans, or anything of the sort. Instead he asked how Christine was doing, and if she liked her dress. Christine lied about the dress, but Antoinette could see the trust and belief build up in Christine, seeing that she could once again see a future filled with happiness. The two chatted happily for a while, before Raoul coughed and said.

"Dear Christine, would you like to take a moonlight stroll with me?" Raoul asked her, smiling comfortingly and lovingly at her.

"Oh yes please Raoul!" Christine replied excitedly.

He stood up, glancing at Meg and Antoinette, letting them know that they were expected to go too, but coughed discretely, indicating that he wanted them to follow behind reasonably far away. Antoinette was all to glad to agree, pleased that he was inspiring confidence in his young fiancée again. Raoul offered Christine his arm, and she took it gratefully, giving him a loving smile. The two of them stepped outside the house, laughing and chatting together, acting, once again like a very in love couple once again.

Meg was in turn, just as excited.

"Oh maman, maman look at them!" Meg squealed. "Aren't they just the perfect young couple."

Antoinette nodded in reply, not 100% convinced of this, but glad that at least, Christine was happy. That was all that really mattered. As they walked down the empty, moonlit street, Antoinette watched the two of them talk. She couldn't hear them, but watched the way that they acted. She knew that they cared about each other greatly, but was wondering that maybe they felt differently. Raoul was clearly taken by her, either in love or lusting and constantly giving her hints that he would not mind a kiss or two, where as Christine ignored these. It puzzled Antoinette. She was acting more like she loved Raoul like a best friend or a brother. Antoinette was concerned and confused, but persuaded herself that she was just being paranoid.

Slightly in front of them, Raoul and Christine were talking quietly and laughing, quite happily, when Raould suddenly stopped, glancing away a little.

"Christine... I need to talk to you..." He mumbled gently.

"Of course Raoul, what is it?" She asked with a sweet smile.

Raoul rubbed the back of his neck guiltily.

"Look Christine... I don't think you realise this but... As a Vicomtesse... You won't be able to sing..." He admitted.

"Oh... Well I understand about in public, but what about at home?" She asked, her heart sinking.

"Christine... No. I forbid it."

**Gasp... **

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